The Wrong-Boy-Who-Died
by Carnivore4
Summary: Harry Potter is the infamous Boy-Who-Died, the twin brother of Luka, the BWL. Their first year of hogwarts will be filled with manipulations, opposing Dumbledore, friendship, and Romance. James Potter lives, while Lily died, but not by Voldemort's hand. Slash, but no romance until fourth year. NOT a cliché WBWL fic. Warnings: Abuse, death, suicide, implied rape.
1. Part one: Chapter 1

Harry James Potter had hoped to be treated equally by his father. After all, while his twin brother Luka was the famous boy who lived, Harry himself was the infamous Boy who died.

Yep. The boy who died. Hadrian himself had been surprised when he found that particular piece of information in "The recent acts of historical debacles for children" when he was five. But the book hadn't specified anymore than the fact that the youngest Potter twin was the boy who died and the oldest was the boy who lived, and Hadrian was still confused as to why his father treated him the way he did. Until one day when he was eight, his godfather Remus explained it to him. Actually, 'explained' isn't the right word. More like 'showed'. Remus had to sneak the pensive past James, but he felt it necessary to show his godson the true root of James's hate. Hadrian started in awe at the silvery material that Remus pulled with his wand.

"Harry, you know what a pensive is, right?"

Harry just raised an eyebrow as if to say "Seriously?"

"Okay, that was a stupid question. Of course you know what a pensive is," Remus said, running his fingers through his hair.

He's nervous, noted Harry.

"Do I need to be worried about what you're about to show me?" He asked the now pacing Remus who jerked at the question.

"No? Maybe a little? Actually, I don't think this is a good idea.. should we wait till your older-Harry-Harry what are you doing!"

Harry had already submerged his head into the makeshift cauldron before Remus could change his mind. With a mutter that sounded strangely like "wonder where he gets that from" Remus followed Harry in.

The moment Harry sunk his head in, he found himself outdoors, in a grassy clearing, with a small crowd of wizards surrounding a pedestal in the center. A wedding? He wondered. No. Certainly not. The mood was too solemn. The clothes would have been brighter- Wait a second. The clothes. They were all wearing black.

"A funeral," Harry muttered, eyes forming into slits with his realization.

"Yes, Harry. Your funeral," Remus said from behind him.

Harry was about to ask him what he meant, but the words disappeared like a snitch when he recognized his mother. He gravitated towards her, unconsciously, moving past the crowds of solemn guests whose faces seemed vaguely familiar. Her beautiful young face was clouded with sorrow and her fiery red hair was pulled back in a hastily tied bun. A younger James held her hand, standing next to her, looking as handsome as always, even with the bags under his eyes. Even though he knew it was just a memory, it still hurt when Lily didn't look at him, and instead turned her attention to the bundle clutched to her chest. With a closer look, he recognized it as a baby.

Me or Luka?

He stepped around his father and stood right in front of his mother.

So close, he thought longingly staring at her.

But she's gone, as his father had yelled whenever he got drunk.

Tearing his eyes away, he instead focused on finding out who the baby was. The hazel eyes that set the two of them apart were gazing into his green ones, and harry was startled before he remembered that nobody could see him now. The baby wasn't looking at him, but only staring blankly into space.

But if this is Luka then where am I?

All of a sudden, Remus's words struck him.

'Your funeral'

Taking a deep breath, Harry stepped around his parents to the tiny casket, in which the corpse that was identical to Luca laid. It can't be. Is that me? This doesn't make sense.

All of a sudden, a gust of wind tore through the crowd, knocking them to their feet. Harry was about to turn to see if his parents were okay, but a flash of green light blinded him. A chorus of screams echoed behind him. One even threatened to escape his throat but he swallowed it. He was used to holding back his screams. When the blinding brightness no longer pierced the back of his eyes, he tentatively opened them. This time, he, like his parents-No. Like James and Lily, could not resist a scream.

The body of the toddler-he refused to accept that it was him-was surrounded by a eerie green light, and its eyelids were open, revealing the unnatural eyes of the same color.

It was alive.

The green glow disappeared so fast that he wondered if it was there in the first place or if he'd just imagined it. But then the baby started wailing, as if it was just any other innocent toddler. And another wail joined in. Harry turned around, to find Luca on the floor, crying, having fallen from lily's arms when she had collapsed on the floor.

The pensive Remus, was at her side, his fingers pressed against her throat. He shook his head, not meeting James's eyes. "She's not breathing! It killed her-She's dead-" James choked on his words, tears now freely falling from his eyes. The three remaining potters all cried together that day. All of them. Little did they know that that would be the last day they willingly did anything together.

Harry found himself kneeling on the cold floor, his pale face reflected in the silver mercury like liquid.

He had always been paler than his twin, but had never thought much about it. Pale as a corpse, his father had said disdainfully. How ironic that he was an actual corpse

"That's why they call you the boy who died. While your brother survived the attack with Voldemort, you didn't. You died, but then you came back on your funeral," Remus said quietly. Harry had forgotten Remus was there.

"And my father hates me because I killed my mother," Harry said, adding the unspoken words.

Remus flinched at the bluntness of the statement, but didn't deny it.

"Moony! Where are you?" James's voice carried through the large manor.

"Coming, Prongs!" Remus called out, packing everything up with a flick of his wand, "Be careful around your father, Harry."

"He's not my father," Harry sneered, but Remus was already gone.


	2. Part one: Chapter 2

**Warning: Child Abuse**

With the seed of information Remus gave him growing in his head, Harry came to the conclusion that he had to directly confront James. There was no way he could ignore this. This confrontation had been long since coming, he assured his reflection in the mirror as he brushed his teeth. He tried to comb through his thick black locks, but they refused to lie flat. At last, with Muggle hair spray, ironically enough, he got it to lie neatly past his ears and his fringe covering his left eye. Just how he liked it.

"Harry! Hurry up in there!" Luka banged on the door, and Harry jumped.

"Patience, brother," Harry snapped back, fastening the last button of his shirt, and grabbing his makeup. James hadn't been as bad lately, but he still had to cover a particularly nasty bruise on the side of his jaw. The concealer he was using had taken hours to find! Practically no brands catered to skin as pale as his. Unlocking the door, Luka shoved past him, his eyes deadset on the toilet.

"Merlin, Harry! You take hours in the bathroom. You're such a girl," Luka said, though he was smiling.

"Sexist much?" teased Harry, and laughed when Luka made a face.

"Now I really need to go, so get out!"

Harry rolled his eyes as the door slammed in his face. Heading downstairs, he planned out exactly what he was going to say. But then he heard voices in the living room.

"-and why would I do that?" A snide sounding voice said.

"-I know we weren't on the best of terms-"

They both stopped talking as they noticed Harry standing at the threshold.

"Good morning, Harry," James said, with a relieved smile on his face. Harry glanced curiously at the serious looking man standing across from James with a murderous expression on his face.

"Good morning, _James_ ,"

Snape appeared surprised by the venom in Harry's words, but it James himself wasn't.

"This man is Severus Snape, a Professor at Hogwarts. He's going to be tutoring you," He said, with a glare directed towards Snape, as if daring him to say otherwise. He didn't get a chance to. Harry beat him to it.

"Snape as in the man you've ranted about who supposedly tried to steal Lily from you? If that's even remotely the case, I'm pretty sure he doesn't want to tutor the person who murdered her," Both men flinched at his tone.

"I don't like your attitude, Harry," James reprimanded in a voice that made Snape's blood freeze.

Harry paled- something Snape hadn't thought was possible- but didn't back down. He couldn't, he was in too deep. He was going to be punished anyway, so might as well finish what he'd started. He opened his mouth with a snarky retort on the tip of his tongue, but he was interrupted.

"Looks like you've found an interesting way to raise children, James. Bullying them, just like you do to everyone else," Snape sneered, staring at Harry with disgust, "No wonder they've turned out to be murderers-"

Hot rage boiled up inside of him at the thought of being compared to his father. Without thinking, Harry lunged, his first crashing into Snape's nose. Snape stumbled, his feet not supporting his weight, and fell into the sofa, tipping it over. The sofa jostled the coffee table laden with glass fineries, which promptly shattered into pieces as they smashed into the floor. Snape cursed loudly, clutching his broken, bleeding nose. Luka chose then to walk into the living room, "Good morn- Whoa! What happened here,"

Harry gulped guiltily, looking down at his clenched fist.

"An accident?" he said, though it came out as a question.

"An accident, my arse," James ran his fingers through his hair, surveying the damage. At times like these, it was easy for James to feel justified about the abuse.

"You can forget about the tutoring, Potter," Snape sneered, back on his feet.

Harry just had to get in the last word, "Like we wanted your services anyway, lover boy,"

Snape apparated away. Leaving James to wonder whether to punish Harry or reward him. Seeing the gleeful look in Harry's eyes, he made his decision.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

James didn't dare touch him until the door was closed. But the moment the telltale click of the lock was heard, James reached out. Grabbing a fistful of Harry's tousled tresses, he kicked him to the floor. Gasping for breath, Harry looked up just in time to dodge a push kick to his ribs. James froze for an instant. Harry never dodged or fought back. He had always just gritted his teeth with resignation and accepted the blows. But now, there was a glint in his eyes that James didn't like.

"Child abuse," Harry panted out, just as James had raised his fist.

"What did you say?" James snarled, but the fear on his face was unmistakable.

"Child abuse, is what you're doing," he repeated, unflinchingly, "It's illegal, you know. So you should probably be more careful about covering your tracks,"

"Where did you learn that?" James demanded, ignoring the last part.

"I read," Unlike you, he thought.

"You think this is abuse? You haven't seen real abuse. I could have starved you, I could have raped you. You think this discipline is tough? Well maybe if you showed respect like Luka does, then it wouldn't be necessary," was what James said on the outside, but on the inside he was distraught.

'What if he starts lying to people, telling them that I abuse him? It wouldn't be that far from a lie, as I haven't been the most loving father...But he's a monster. Not a boy. A monster. A murderer,' he reminded himself. Harry had gotten back to his feet, so James reached out and smashed his fist into Harry's nose. Blood dripped in rivulets. Red blood. Human blood.

"Don't...Just don't go around punching people. Okay?" James said, shaken. Looking down at the blood on his hands, James shivered. I need to get him away from me. He brings out the worst of me. It's what should have been done a long time ago. Leaving the room, James started on his preparations to send Harry away to Darkness Boarding school for the wealthy.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Harry stood in front of the warmly decorated school building, with its red brick walls, and wood furnishes. He idly kicked the side of his trunk, wondering if punching Snape was worth being shipped away to some Muggle boarding school. Only until my Hogwarts letter arrives, he reminded himself. Only three more years, before I'm learning magic.

The door swung open, jolting Harry out of his musings. A girl who didn't appear to be much older than him looked down at him, with an almost dead look on her eyes. They stood there in the cold for a moment, as she took in his messy hair and bony arms.

Finally she spoke, but what she said left Harry hoping that she hadn't, "A word of advice. Keep your head up, your eyes open, and your feet off the ground. That's how you survive at Darkness Academy,"

Harry had a feeling that he wouldn't be thinking about Hogwarts any time soon.

 **A/N: Sorry about the stupid boarding school crap. This isn't totally random, I actually have a reason for this, as you'll find out soon. He'll still be going to Hogwarts, but we've still got two more chapters to go before that. And BTW, what did you think of Harry punching Snape in the nose. I've always wanted to write that, but eleven year olds don't go around punching teachers so I figured it would make more sense for an angsty eight year old to do it instead. Please review. War out!**


	3. Part one: Chapter 3

**Just a bit of backstory before he goes to Hogwarts, about how he first met his friends, and a bit of a mystery for you. Can you figure out why James is at his worst during Halloween?** Harry was ten when he learnt not to anger his father on hallows eve. It had been two years since Harry'd been sent away to Darkness academy, but he'd come home for Halloween break. Just in time for the yearly pureblood Hallows eve party. James had been making excuses to avoid the party for years now, but his friends had finally coaxed him into getting them to attend. That was how Harry had found himself apparating into the ball room of the Blaise's with his family-if you could call them that, that is.

Tugging on his dark green dress robes that were slightly to large for him, he glanced around. The room had been decorated with gold and purple colors, and many of the guests had already arrived and were socializing with that pureblood grace that only they seemed to have.

A woman with smooth ebony skin walked up to the trio that were now starting to attract attention.

Offering her hand to James, who looked slightly uncomfortable, she said, "I'm Evelyn Zabini. And why, it's nice to see that you've finally been able to make it. We were beginning to wonder if the oh so great "Potters" had thought themselves above pureblood traditions,"

James had noticed the thinly veiled insult, and from the anger on his face, Harry knew that James was about to say the wrong thing. Reacting quickly, he cut in, "Oh no, Lady Zabini," his voice sounded sickingly sweet to his own pierced ears, "It's not _our_ family name that's in question."

She glared down at Harry, easily figuring out which of the twins he was, after all, they both looked the part. While at one time, they'd been nearly identical, the differences had become more pronounced as they grew. Evan took on the strong, healthy appearance, with his short, messy, raven locks, as was the boy who lived. Harry grew his hair out till past his chin, an inch above his shoulders. His skin was as pale as ever, and he had a skinny frame, making him look slightly unhealthy. Like someone on the brink of death.

Finally, it seemed as if she'd approved of him, "Harry, is it? You must be ten. The same age as my son, Blaise. I'm sure he'd enjoy your company." she waved her son over. He was a tall, dark skinned boy, who appeared to be uncomfortable in his fancy robes.

"Yes mother," he said, ignoring Harry and the rest.

"This is Harry Potter,"

Blaise's eyes widened when he realized who he was, but thankfully, he didn't say anything other than, "Nice to meet you Harry, would you like to see my room?"

Harry smiled at his luck. Making friends in the wizarding world had been harder to tackle than making friends in the Muggle world. This would be his chance.

"Sure. I would love to,"

Blaise started walking towards the hall, gesturing for Harry to follow.

"The adults are so boring with their etiquette crap. The rest of the kids are hanging out in my room,"

Grateful that Blaise hadn't spouted any crap like 'Are you really Harry Potter?' He replied, "I suck at etiquette. But at least I have an excuse since I'm at a muggle boarding school most of the year,"

Harry came to a stop behind Blaise.

"I'll bet you got to listen to tons of music at that Muggle school of yours," Blaise said, pulling open the door to his room, "Music is the only thing by Muggles that I can stand,"

"You could say that again," a silky voice cut in. A group of children were lounging in Blaise's room. Two girls leaned against the bed, and the boy who'd spoken had headphones plugged in.

"This is Harry Potter, guys," Introduced Blaise.

"Wait! THE Harry Potter?" Blurted out the girl dressed in elegant purple robes.

"I didn't know there was more than one," Harry said blandly.

"This is Pansy," Blaise gestured at the girl who'd just spoken.

"I'm Millicent,"

"Draco," nodded the boy with the headphones.

"What're you listening to?" Harry asked, pulling a chair up next to Draco.

"MCR"

Harry did the secret emo handshake with Draco. (Sorry, just had to)

"I don't know what that is, but it's probably better than the horrible 'formal' music being played out there," Millicent said.

A sudden thought struck Harry, and an mischievous grin split across his face, "What do you think would happen if we blasted 'This is Halloween' through the speakers?"

Pansy blinked at him.

"Oh, you're definitely Potter's son, alright,"

Harry flinched when he heard his father's name. Blaise noticed, but didn't comment.

"Well? Are we going to do this?"

"My father's going to kill me," Draco groaned, but he was already getting up.

At the end of that night, it was Harry's father who nearly killed him. James went farther then he ever had before. For whatever reason it was, the days following Hallows eve were always the worst. It had been stupid to provoke him at this time of the year, Harry admitted. But as he lay on the floor coughing blood over his broken ribs, he decided that the wild glint that had shone on his friend's eyes made it worth it.


	4. Part one: Chapter 4

**I'm really trying not to insult anyone's religion. But I apologise in advance if I do.**

Harry was leaving for Hogwarts. The thought brought a smile to his face, he was glad to leave the hellhole called Darkness academy. He slammed closed the lid of his trunk, and took one final look around what had been his dorm room for the past three years. Even now, it was spartan and empty, with nothing but the stone, prison like bed, with a worn pillow at its head. Harry hadn't bothered bringing in sheets from home. After all, it wasn't as if they actually got a chance to sleep. Harry pulled out the Portkey James had given him. It was in the form of a bible. How ironic. Harry looked out of the door, towards the hall where the students were gathering for their prayers. The prayers went on till dawn. Anyone who fell asleep would be punished. Harry was practically nocturnal at this point, since the few hours of sleep he and the other students had managed were pulled during classes. Not that teachers actually taught in their classes, though- The Portkey activated in a burst of red light, and Harry's stomach churned at the horrible sensation.

He landed in a heap on the kitchen floor, and could see the blurry figure of James.

Helping him to his feet, James frowned when he got a look at Harry's face.

"Have you been getting sleep lately? You look like a ghost."

Harry was startled for a moment at the sudden show of emotion from his father. Then he remembered that it was September. The months before November were always the best. But he still didn't bother to tell his father the truth. He knew that he wouldn't believe him.

"Just had some studying to do before the finals," he lied. They didn't have finals.

"Well, at least you'll be able to sleep on the Hogwarts train,"

Just then Luka walked in, his Hogwarts trunk held loosely in his fingers. He froze when he saw Harry. Harry's relationship with his brother was a strange one for sure. They didn't quite dislike one another, but they weren't as close as twins were supposed to be.

"Hello, Luka," Harry greeted, deciding to make the first move.

"Harry." Luka nodded.

"That's a rather heavy looking trunk, son." Noted James, glancing at Luka who was noticably sweating under the weight of his trunk.

"I had to get in all of my books, dad," said Luka defensively.

"Books? Who knows, maybe at this rate you'll end up in ravenclaw," James joked. But he was only kidding. Everyone assumed that Harry would end up in Slytherin while Luka was destined for Gryffindor. And knowing their personalities, and the circles each of them hanged out with, Harry didn't blame them. Still, it was rather annoying when everyone already had preconceived notions about you.

"Shall we get going?" James asked, holding out his hands towards the twins.

"Oh no, please tell me we aren't apparating?" Harry groaned, stepping away. He was already sick to his stomach from the portkey, and didn't think he could handle apparating.

"Just suck it up Harry, it can't be that bad," snapped James before he forcibly grabbed Harry's shoulder, making him flinch.

In the end, it really hadn't been all that bad, though Harry had nearly passed out when he'd landed. The loud, intense crowd of platform nine and three quarters probably didn't help. But when James's back was turned, Luka silently passed his twin a vial of pepper up potion, making Harry wonder how much Luka really knew. As they passed through the crowd of staring faces, Harry looked up in awe at the large steam engine with wisps of smoke trailing behind it. Hogwarts Express. He'd been looking forward to this since forever. No abuse. No sleepless nights. Just free, pure magic. They stopped at the end of the platform, where James embraced Luka in a hug. Harry was about to leave, but James stopped him.

"Behave, Harry," James said, with a hand on Harry's shoulder. From anyone else, it would just be an empty warning, but from James, it was a threat.

And Harry didn't react well to threats.

"Behave?" Sneered Harry, "Oh, I promise to keep your dirty little secrets to myself if that's what you mean by behave,"

James flinched, "Harry, you know why you have to keep this to yourself. We've been over it. It's for the greater good,"

"How could abusing me be for the greater good?" Harry said quietly. He turned, and stepped into the train. James didn't call after him. Harry didn't care.

-x-x-x-

Harry entered the compartment at the very end of the train, where he had planned to meet with his friends. Instead, he was meet with the heated sight of Pansy making out with Blaise. They both pulled apart when they saw him, but the damage had been done.

"AAH! My eyes!" Harry groaned dramatically, covering his eyes, "Somebody obliviate this from my mind,"

"Harry, shut up!" Came the unison snaps from the pair.

"What is it? What's going on?" Asked a voice from behind.

Harry spun around to find Draco, with earphones plugged in as always. A vicious grin grew on Harry's face, "They were-"

"I don't think you should finish that sentence, Harry. Unless you want me to tell Draco you know what..." Cut in Pansy, with an expression just as vicious.

Harry froze. "You wouldn't dare."

"I would," said Pansy. Blaise and Draco looked at their exchange with confusion. Neither knew what this secret of Harry's was that Pansy knew.

"We even?" Asked Pansy, her face serious, though her cornflower eyes shone.

Harry both loved and hated that phrase. It was what they'd grown to call 'The quid pro quo exchange.' They used it whenever two of them each had dirt on each other. Pansy knew one of Harry's secrets, and Harry knew one of Pansy's. They were even.

"Yes. We're even," Feeling the need to break the tension, he opened the door to the next empty compartment "C'mon Draco, let's wait in here for Millicent and Daphne. We'll have more room that way," He said, knowing that Pansy and Blaise would want more time to themselves. Pansy nodded a thanks, understanding why he was doing so. Harry just winked back.

Shoving the compartment door closed, Harry set his trunk down, and sat down next to Draco.

"Found anything good recently?" asked Harry, gesturing towards Draco's iPod. Draco unplugged his right earplug and handed it to Harry.

"I found a cool album by this punk rock band called Get Scared. Here, try it."

As the song played, Harry leaned his head again Draco's shoulder and let his tired eyes shutter closed. Draco just wrapped an arm around him. As he world around him faded into unconsciousness, Harry heard something that sounded strangely like, "That Quid pro quo exchange was pointless. I already know this 'secret' you're afraid of me finding out about, Harry..."

 **How'd you like it? I know I said no romance till fourth year, but I couldnt resist. Was I too obvious about this 'secret'? Too vague? Please review, so I know what to fix. And what house do you think Harry is going to end up in? I've already decided, but that doesn't mean you can't try to guess.  
**

 **À bientôt!  
**

 **(That means until next time to all you non french speaking folk)**


	5. Part one: Chapter 5

Harry noticed the looks he attracted. Few of them were filled with disdain, but most of them were merely curious. Of course, he didn't receive nearly as much attention as his brother did. The first years were currently standing outside of the great hall, waiting for McGonagal to call them in to be sorted. The excited first years had finally moved on from their buzz over the boy who lived, leaving Luka standing there quietly by his friends Ron and Neville. Even from the distance, he could tell that Luka was nervous. But of course, Luka couldn't confide in Ron and Neville, who would certainly look down on their friend for being 'cowardly'.

Yes, they all knew that Luka would be sorted into Gryffindor, the same way _his_ friends knew that he would be sorted into Slytherin. But this stereotype wasn't really helping at the moment...

Making up his mind, Harry walked up to his brother, to the surprise of the rest.

Luka looked up, and forced a smile, pushing his anxieties away, "Hey, Harry. Excited for Slytherin?"

He joked.

"Doesn't have to be that way, Luka," Harry said, dead sirious, "And it doesn't matter, either."

Luka stared at him, an unrecognizable emotion swirling in his hazel eyes. Before he could say anything, though, McGonagal's voice pierced the hall.

"They're ready for you!"

Harry got in line with the rest of his friends who all gave him looks that said that they would be talking about this after the sorting.

Assuming they were in the same house, that is. Harry wasn't surprised to see the starlit ceiling. Looking past the crowds of various students, Harry smirked when he locked eyes with a certain greasy haired man in the teachers table.

Then the sorting hat sang.

Harry stared at the dusty old hat with wide eyes. James had told them about the sorting hat, but he hadn't told him that it _sang_.

Just then a shoulder roughly pushed past Harry's. Harry was immediately wary of the red head.

"Out of my way Slytherins," Annoyed, Harry shoved his foot in front of Ron's, effectively tripping the prejudiced boy.

"Slytherin, you say? We haven't even been sorted yet. How do you know that _you're_ not going to be a Slytherin?"

Harry sneered at the boy who'd managed not to fall, but merely stubbed his toe.

Ron snorted, "Me? Slytherin? That's about as likely as you getting into Hufflepuff,"

By now, all of the first years were watching, ignoring the singing hat, and _that_ was saying something.

"How about a bet, then? Of course, that's if you can afford it, Weasley?"

That perked Ron up. He hated it when people insulted his wealth.

"Of course I can afford it. I bet ten pounds that I'll get into Slytherin."

"I bet ten pounds that I'll get into Hufflepuff."

The two of them were faced with laughter, and even the hat stopped, mid song to see what had interrupted it.

"First years? Can you control yourselves," Professor McGonagall snapped, her face red.

By now, even Ron and Harry had joined into the laughter, and struggled to stop.

With a sigh, Professor McGongall started calling students up.

It only took a minute for the hat to sort Millicent into Slytherin, and Draco was sorted in less.

Then it was Pansy's turn. When her name was called, she stepped forward, but then spun around.

"I'm telling it to put me into Ravenclaw,"

She said, before stroding up to the hat, as confident as she could ever be. The words didn't quite register into Harry and Blaise's heads. Not until the sorting hat called out, "RAVENCLAW"

The applause was just as loud as ever, as not many people knew the Parkinson family, and how all of them had been sorted into slytherin for generations now. But they did. Harry and Blaise did.

But Harry didn't have time to think, as it was now Ron's turn.

All the first years grew silent as they watched Ron's conflicted expression as he sat on the stool with the hat lowered over his bright red hair.

"SLYTHERIN!"

Now the hall grew silent. Except for the outraged cries of, "A Weasley? In Slytherin?" But Ron managed a proud expression as he strode down the hall to the slytherin table, to the reluctant applause from his house.

A muggleborn with bushy hair was sorted into Ravenclaw, and there was no surprise that Luka was sorted into Gryffindor.

"Harry Potter!"

Harry was receiving quite a few glares, which he countered effectively with bright smiles.

Nodding at Blaise, Harry walked up to the stool, and let the hat be lowered over his eyes.

"Hmmm... An interesting mind for sure..."

"I would like to become a Hufflepuff, please," Harry thought back, ever so politely. Hufflepuffs were polite. Even though he wasn't one now, he would be-

"Will be?... Oh. I see. You do not believe in this system, do you?"

Damn hat. "Yes, I believe that this pigeonholing thing is stupid. If you put a Gryffindor in Slytherin, he will eventually get all the Slytherin traits. So it doesn't matter where you put me. Except I would benefit the most from being sorted into Hufflepuff. Not that I want the money. I just need the respect of my year mates..."

"I see. By doing this, nobody in your year will be certain about what house you truly belong in. That way, everyone will be able to trust you. Therefore, making you the most popular student. Am I right?"

"Will you stop reading my mind," Harry snapped back. The hat chuckled.

"Never let it be said that I don't know when I'm not wanted."

Out loud, it yelled, "HUFFLEPUFF"

Oh well. Looks like we're tied.


	6. Part two: Chapter 6

"That's a stupid system," Harry's objection was met with silence. The Hufflepuffs were seated in the eerily black common room, as their head of house had been explaining the house rules. The point system had seemed rather foolish to Harry, so he voiced his opinion. Why not? It was a free country, after all.

"Would you care to explain your thinking, Potter?" Asked Professor Sprout with a condescending expression. She doubted that the boy could fight for what he believed in. Alas, even she had fallen into the stereotype that Hufflepuffs were all wishy washy.

But Harry was determined to change that.

"The point system is awarded to people with the best participation in class, Yes? That gives advantage to Ravenclaws,"

Harry didn't believe in that one bit, but it sounded true enough, so most of the Hufflepuffs bought it. Though, their year's Zacharias Smith gave him a knowing look.

"And isn't it just encouraging teachers to play favorites? Clearly, they'd award more points to the students they prefer..." Harry trailed off, leaving the seeds of doubt growing in the minds of his fellow Hufflepuffs.

"Yeah," chimed in an older Hufflepuff, one with brown hair and sharp blue eyes, "It's not like the winners get anything anyway. Just a stupid cup."

"And losing points usually results in all your housemates hating you. What do the Muggles call it again? Peer pressure,"

The common room erupted with excited chatter, each jab at the house system more vicious. But those who supported the house system retorted with their own reasoning. Soon, the noise was so loud, with the arguments on top of arguments, that Professor Sprout had to use the amplifying charm to get them to hear her.

"Silence!"

They settled at her command, but their eyes still shone with the newfound challenge presented to them by the least likely candidate. They had all expected Harry to just keep his head down and go with the flow once he was sorted into Hufflepuff. But it looked like he was about to turn the tide. That was, if he could win this argument with their head of house.

"Would you care to explain how exactly you plan on destroying one of the most sacred traditions of Hogwarts?" Professor Sprout asked, skeptically. Harry decided that the best route was to turn his head of house's own words against her.

"I wouldn't call this destruction, Professor. Merely change," Harry let the word hang in the air for a moment. Everyone just loved change. "And everyone knows that most traditions are outdated and not suited to schools." Seeing that his words hadn't quite convinced them, he added, "I mean, could you imagine if we hadn't changed the tradition of corporal punishment?"

That shook them.

"And to answer your question, it wouldn't be all that hard. Just make the Professors have to deduct so many points that they get tired of it, and stop. But we'd have to get the other houses to be in on it as well...I could try talking to my brother to get Gryffindor on our side, I have enough friends in Slytherin, though Ravenclaw would be tough..."

"I have a sibling in Ravenclaw,"

"My boyfriend's in Ravenclaw,"

Before the chatter could get out of hand, Zacharias Smith cut in.

"Are you sure you want to do this? I mean, we're basically going to be breaking the school rules,"

"Oh please. Gryffindors get to break rules all the time,"

said a dark haired prefect.

"And they somehow end up winning the house cup almost every year. Another reason why this needs to end,"

"Silence!" Shouted Professor Sprout once again.

"I'm willing to let you get away with your little anarchy, but only if you do it together. So make up your minds,"

"Okay! Let's have a vote. Those of you who are against it, raise your hands,"

Reluctantly, a few hands went up. Harry wasn't surprised, on the contrary, he'd expected it.

"Well. That's it. Now off to bed, all of you. Prefects, show the first years to their dorms," Professor Sprout said, with a wave.

Harry, Zacharias Smith, and three other boys were led to their room. It was surprisingly dark and gloomy, with most shades of black, grey and even the yellow managed to look creepy.

"This is not what I signed up for as a Hufflepuff," muttered a wide eyed brunette. Harry had a feeling he wasn't just talking about their dorm room's color scheme.

A handsome boy with the slytherin badge on his robes, stood solemnly under a hemlock tree. Harry was vaguely aware of the cold, and rubbed his bare arms. It was winter, judging by the snow that coated the empty field. Yes. It was barren, except for Harry, the boy and the hemlock tree.

"You're not from this time, are you?" The boy asked, his startlingly red eyes clashing with Harry's green.

"What time?" Harry asked, "I thought this was just a dream."

The boy closed in the distance between them, the night sky dark against the snow that crunched under his boots.

"What is your name?" Up close, the red eyed boy gave off a menacing vibe. Harry felt obligated to answer, "Harry Potter. What's yours?"

The boy let out a bitter laugh. It somehow looked right on his sharp features.

"Harry, you know me best as Lord Voldemort."

No. Harry closed his eyes.

"This is just a dream. Just a dream,"

He said, backing away.

But Voldemort caught him by the wrists. His smooth slender fingers wrapped around Harry's calloused ones.

"Just a dream. I was hoping to make more of an impression,"

The dark lord pulled him closer, his mouth skimming Harry's ear, "I'm a nightmare, and don't you forget it."

Harry rolled his eyes. He pulled away from the man who claimed to be Voldemort, looking up at the slytherin. Dream or nightmare, he had just confirmed that this wasn't real. Empowered by that knowledge, he felt brave enough to ask, "Have you ever listened to blank space?"


	7. Part two: Chapter 7

"Look at that Hufflepuff!"

"The one next to the brunette!"

"The pale one, with the longish hair!"

While his brother had been crowded with the throngs of students who had wanted to see him, Harry himself was getting tired of the whispers that followed him, but disappeared the moment he turned around. It had seemed like everyone was somewhat awed, yet afraid of him.

He had been worried that he would fall behind in class, as he had been sent away to a muggle school most of his childhood, but it turned out he needn't have.

The classes started right from the basics, so Harry was able to catch up to his other peers, who were treating him with respect, though a handful of them were still afraid of him.

That would change after potions on Thursday.

"Aaargh! We have potions next," Justin groaned.

"What's wrong with potions?" Harry asked, confused. He was walking down to the dungeons with Zacharias and Justin, fiddling with the explosives in his pocket. It was the latest prank toy made by Fred and George*

"Really? Don't you know that _Snape_ is teaching us?" Zacharias practically spat out the name Snape. But then again, he spat out everyone's names. _That name sounds familiar..._

"Wait, hold on? Snape? As in Severus Snape?" Harry felt a grin tug at his lips at the memory.

"You know him?" Justin asked incredulously.

"I may or may not have punched him in the face when I was eight,"

"Yes, Potter, and I haven't forgotten about that, trust me," Snape's silky voice startled the three hufflepuffs almost as much as Harry's declaration a moment ago. Almost.

"Get in, you two," Snape gestured towards his classroom, "I need a word with Potter."

Harry gazed up at Snape warily as Zacharias and Justin left. It'd been a while since the encounter with Snape, and Harry had never met the man again. Did he want revenge?

"Don't look at me like that, it's not like I'm going to hurt you," Snape snapped, making Harry relax, "The only reason I'm wasting my time with you is because your _father_ made me. Apparently he wasn't able to contact you,"

"Why couldn't he contact me? Is Way okay?"

"Way? You mean James's owl? No she's fine," Snape pondered what it meant about their relationship that Harry cared more about James's owl than James himself. This could possibly hinder Dumbledore's plans...

"The headmaster has...a proposition," Snape chose his words carefully.

"Proposition?" Harry snorted, "Does he want me to sacrifice myself for the sake of 'the greater good' or something,"

Snape froze at Harry's casually tossed words. Harry's eyes widened, "Oh no. Don't tell me he actually wants me to sacrifice myself?"

"What he _wants_ is irrelevant," Snape continued smoothly, regaining his composure. Harry didn't fail to notice that Snape never denied it, "What he _needs_ is for you to keep your head down. Stop with the dramatic 'down with the point system' spout. You'll start to attract the attention of the wrong people, too soon," Snape said, his fingers unconsciously brushing his left forearm.

Harry felt his temper flare up at the last words. Too soon.

"Too soon? Too soon? Do you mean to say that it's inevitable? You're just trying to prolong it as long as you can? Well, I'm not joining the death eaters, if that's what you're implying by the 'wrong people'. I know that Voldemort is still out there-" Snape flinched at the name, but Harry continued, his anger turning as cold as the smirk on his face, "But that doesn't mean I'm going to blindly join them-"

Snape didn't fail to notice that Harry only said 'blindly join them' he didn't say he wouldn't join them at all. _Touché_ , Snape thought, with a hint of admiration,

"-I'll bet that me being sorted into Hufflepuff messed up whatever plans for my future you've been keeping. I'm sure that Dumbledore isn't exactly happy with the turn of events, huh. But I'm not going to be another pawn in his scheme-"

"A bishop," Snape interrupted.

"What?"

"You would at least be a bishop, not a pawn," Snape took in a deep breath, his empty, serious eyes, the color of the night sky, pierced into Harry's killing curse green, "And you have no choice but to do what he tells you. And if you don't, then your father will suffer. His communication with you has already been cut off."

Harry's eyes flashed, "Are you threatening me?"

"No. I am merely relaying Dumbledore's message," Snape said, through gritted teeth.

Harry snapped. His fingers reached for the explosives in his pocket, but Snape, who noticed the motion, started to pull out his wand.

Just as he'd pulled the trigger, the blinding light of a stunning spell blocked his vision.

But Harry was faster, and chucked the explosives in the general direction of Snape. But of course, he missed. It exploded at the same moment the stunning spell hit Harry. He squeezed his eyes shut, and felt himself being roughly shoved away from the impact. Pushed onto the floor, he heard panicked yells from the inside of the classroom-Actually, there was no longer an inside of the classroom. The stone walls had collapsed, with the students pushed against the curtains...were they cheering?. Oh wait, they're cheering for me, Harry realized. They'd all heard the horrible rumors about Snape, and were happy to have a reason to skip class. They all seemed unharmed, must have been something in the explosives to make them non lethal.

But where was Snape? Oh, right. On top of him. Wait...did that mean...

"Why'd you save me?" Muttered Harry, as Snape stood up, unharmed, smoothening his robes as if nothing had happened. Then again, this had happened before, maybe he's used to it?

"I couldn't give you detention if you were dead, now could I,"

Harry couldn't tell if Snape was serious or not.

 **A/N: Hey guys! Sorry for the wait, though I tried to make up for it by letting Harry burn down his potions class. Without using potions!** **Did you find the confrontation with Snape confusing? Was it boring? I personally found it fun to write, but let me know if it wasn't. Just for clarification, Fred and George are going to be older in this fic by three years.**


	8. Part two: Chapter 8

And yes, Snape did follow through by giving him detention. He returned to the common room, his hands sore from scrubbing cauldrons. It was already midnight, so he had better get started with his Dark arts homework. Settling himself in front of the fire place, Harry started on his essay. But soon, the warmth of the fireplace was too much for him, and his eyes fluttered shut as he drifted off.

(¸.·´ (¸.·'* (¸.·'* (¸.·'* (¸.·'* (¸.·'* *¨

"You listen to Taylor Swift?"

Once again Harry found himself in kneeling in the snowy field, with Voldemort standing above him. The hemlock tree stood proudly in the scenery, giving Harry a sense of familiarity.

But the odd question would catch anyone by surprise, especially coming from the mouth of the dark lord. Then Harry remembered his words to Voldemort from the last dream.

" _Have you listened to blank space?"_

"Yes, I listen to Taylor Swift," Harry said at last, climbing to his feet with a sigh.

"What's wrong?" Tom frowned, noticing the tired look on Harry's face, and the bags under his eyes, "You don't look so good."

Harry laughed, but it was humorless.

"Well, I could say the same about you," Harry said, changing the subject. He couldn't talk about his father right now. But he wasn't lying. Voldemort did indeed have a wild look in his eyes, and appeared to have lost weight.

"Oh, me?" Voldemort looked down at his body like he hadn't noticed, "This isn't even my real body, of course. I guess it's only the form I take on in this dream. Though I suppose I have been stressed out lately, in real life. Killing your brother has been rather hard," Voldemort admitted, appalling Harry, "But don't think I haven't noticed your measly attempt to change the subject. What's wrong?" Voldemort repeated.

Harry ran his fingers through his hair, "I can't believe I'm telling you of all people, but Dumbledore has threatened to hurt my father if I don't do what he says,"

"And what does he say?"

"He wants me to keep my head down. I have been rather loud in school..." Harry trailed out, wondering if his choice was the right one. Was it truly necessary to throw down the gauntlet? Should he have stayed on Dumbledore's good side for a little longer...

"But why are you even worried? I mean, about the threat? I was under the impression that you and your father don't get along, so why does his safety matter to you?" At Harry's shocked expression, he hastened to add, "It wasn't that hard to figure out that you don't have the best relationship. The Daily Prophet mentioned how your father sent you away to muggle boarding school during the school year, and to a music camp during the summers. And there's the fact that you killed your mother."

Damn Rita Skeeter. Gotta respect her though, she's good at what she does.

"Honestly, I have no clue why I still care about James," Harry stared out into the horizon, a dreamy expression on his face, "But I've always tried to get my father to love me back. I remember a long while ago, when I was six or seven, James signed us up for piano lessons. I loved it, I was a natural. We had contests, and I won all of them. Every single time, James barely gave me a "Congratulations." At last, Luka finally won a contest. And that was only because James broke my wrist the day before," Voldemort sucked in a breath at the implication of that, but Harry pressed on, "Luka got a nimbus 2000 for that. One Christmas break, when I was nine, we had local quidditch matches with the neighborhood wizards. I could barely play, since my body had been so weak from-"

"From what?" Voldemort pressed.

"Nothing," Harry snapped, "It was nothing,"

"Continue," Voldemort said, mentally filing this away in his mind.

"Anyway, I got hit by a bludger. For a second, he actually seemed worried for me. But once he realized that it was me who was hurt and not Luka, he just ignored me. And, last year, I finally swallowed my pride and asked if I could leave Darkness academy. I even told him-" Harry swallowed, "what went on there. But he just told me that it was my fault,"

"What did go on at Darkness Academy?" Voldemort asked, but it was clearly the wrong question. Harry tensed up, and his expression went cold.

"Okay, Okay. Don't tell me," He amended. Harry slumped against the Hemlock tree, tilting his head back as far as it would go.

"I just- Don't know what to do. If it were up to me, I would just ignore James. But-But-"

"But you think if you don't save him, you'll never be able to move on," Voldemort said, quietly.

"What-how?"

"I had a choice to save your mother. But I didn't. I've never quite moved on. Look at me, Harry," Voldemort lifted Harry's chin, forcing him to look him in the eye. Harry noticed for the first time how insane Voldemort looked, "I've lost it. I'm not the same anymore,"

"You sound pretty sane to me," Harry said, a little hesitantly. Voldemort surprised him with a laugh.

"Sane he says! He calls this sane,"

Voldemort slapped his knee, howling.

Harry backed away slowly.

"Trust me harry, I'm a mess. A ticking time bomb. I can only hope-" Voldemort's eyes met his once again, and they were foggy, "That when I explode, you are far, far away."

The dream faded, and Harry awoke in the darkly swathed common room, with his forehead planted in his parchment. The large gothic clock in the corner showed 5 in the morning. Harry sighed, and picked up his quill.

Voldemort was slowly spiraling into insanity, and all Harry could do was try to finish his essay on vampires of the east.

 **A/N. Well, here you go. I felt that Voldemort was slightly ooc, so here's a slightly different side to him.**


	9. Part two: Chapter 9

Harry had to stand on his toes to look over the crowd of first years gathered around the bulletin boards.

"What's going on?" Harry asked Hermione, who he knew as a nice Ravenclaw in his year.

"Flying practice this Friday," she grimaced.

Harry wasn't particularly excited over quidditch either. Unlike Justin and Zach (Zacharias had insisted he call him that) Harry didn't really care much for the sport. It was more of Luka's thing. Speaking of Luka, they would be having their flying classes with Gryffindor.

It was originally to be Gryffindor and Slytherin together, and Hufflepuff with Ravenclaw, but it had been changed after 'The fight'.

Slytherin first years (Namely Harry's friends Blaise, Pansy, Millicent and Draco) had an argument with Luka and a few other Gryffindors.

The thing that confused everyone? No one other than the ones involved knew what exactly they were arguing about.

The whole confrontation took place under a privacy charm, so bystanders could only see, not hear.

But they got the gist of it. A lot of screaming, punching, kicking, and a week of detention with 100 points deducted from both houses.

What sucked even more? Not even Harry's friends would tell him what it was about. Every time he brought up 'The fight' he ended up being ignored. By Friday, Harry had resigned himself to the fact that he wasn't going to find out. Pushing those thoughts away, Harry focused on his next plan.

"You ready?" Harry smirked at his partners in crime as they headed out to the quidditch fields.

"This is gonna be epic," Zach and Justin were giddy with excitement as they trampled through the grass.

Susan Bones rolled her eyes from next to them, "By epic, do you mean another failed attempt at bringing down the point system."

Harry wasn't daunted though, "I know our previous attempts didn't work out as expected"-that was an understatement-"But, this one is bound to have an effect."

"That's all you care about, right!" She said with surprising venom, "Making an effect. Showing off. You just want attention,"

A verbal jab to the face.

"Well, what if I do?" Harry retorted, but his voice sounded weak even to himself, "What's wrong with seeking attention?"

Susan raised her eyebrows, "Oh just great. Another one of those wishy washy types who don't even know what they're fighting for. Talk to me again once you've sorted out your issues." She said, turning away.

"Yeah, get lost. Like we actually want to talk to you," Justin yelled after her. Well, they did say Hufflepuffs were loyal.

"Well, She did have a point," Zach pointed out, but shut up when Justin glared at him.

Harry closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. It doesn't matter, it doesn't have to change anything. Hanging out with Slytherin's taught Harry how to lie. But he still hadn't mastered the art of doing it to himself.

"We're with you, mate," Zach said, with a gentleness that was unusual for him.

"All of hufflepuff-well. Most of hufflepuff is," Justin added.

"But is that enough?" Harry started walking again, making his way to the field where brooms lay in ordered piles, "Its been weeks now. If I can't even convince all of hufflepuff, then how will I convince the whole school-" Harry froze as his eyes met his brother's.

"Hey Harry," he was greeted.

"Hey, Luka." Harry smiled, for the first time in days.

As Madam Hooch started class, Harry leaned over to whisper to his friends, "Change of plans. Come with me after curfew tonight. We're sneaking into Gryffindor dormitory,"

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

"Are we seriously doing this Harry?" Justin hissed from underneath Harry's invisibility cloak. James had clearly wanted to give it to Luka instead, but there must have been a reason why only Harry could have it.

"Shut up, will you," Zach hissed right back.

They were in front of the Gryffindor dormitory, where the fat lady was fast asleep in her portrait. She was probably only charmed to wake up when a Gryffindor passed.

"What's the password?" Justin inquired. Pulling off the cloak.

"I don't know," Harry admitted. Zach gaped,

"What do you mean, you don't know? How are we gonna get in now-"

"What are you doing here?" Hissed a familiar voice.

The trio spun around to come face to face with the one and only Luka Potter.

"Just the person we were looking for, Luka," Harry smiled charmingly, but Luka just rolled his eyes.

"Let me guess, you want my help taking down the point system?"

"How-"

"You weren't exactly quiet about it,"

Well, Luka did have a point there. But Harry knew that Luka was hiding something, he still remembered his twin's odd behavior at the kings cross station. He couldn't exactly acknowledge that though, and definitely not in front of Justin and Zach.

"So are you in?" Justin asked, waving his hand impatiently.

"Yes," Luka said, giving the trio a moment of triumph, "But I want something in return,"

Harry gazed at his twin warily, "You've got this all planned out, so you already know what you want from us, don't you?"

Luka smiled coolly, "I just want you to come back home this Christmas break,"

Harry blinked, "You want me to...Come home?"

"Don't ask any questions. Just trust me on this," Luka's hazel eyes were dead serious.

Harry hesitated, not sure if it was worth the pain he would be in if he went home. Zach noticed his hesitation.

"Do you not want to go home?"

"You don't have to if you don't want to," Justin said, noticing the fear in his friend's eyes.

Harry closed his eyes.

"No Luka. Forget about it," he said at last, in a small voice.

"But-"

"You heard him. No," Zach grabbed Harry's shoulder, steering him around, back from where they came from. Justin draped the cloak over the three of them, and they headed back.

"One day Harry, you're going to explain this to us," Zach whispered.

"I don't know if I'll ever be brave enough to," Harry admitted.

Justin sighed, but patted Harry's back comfortingly.

"Well, there's a reason why we weren't sorted into Gryffindor!"

Harry laughed, and if it came out a little choked, Justin and Zach didn't say anything.


	10. Part two: Chapter 10

The snow sent waves of numbness up Harry's fingers. Pressed against the wet ground, his pajamas were soaked. Sitting up, he found himself in the all too familiar setting of under the hemlock tree.

"I can't do this,"

Harry spun around, to find a deranged looking young Voldemort staring blankly towards him.

"I told him that I would spare her. I would save Lily,"

"Umm...Voldemort?"

But Voldemort didn't show any signs that he heard Harry, instead, he continued mumbling, "I know she's in pain. She could have moved. But why didn't she. Why-"

As sudden as lightning, Voldemort lunged.

His bloodstained hands tore into Harry's neck, pushing him against the trunk of the tree.

Harry flailed, unable to breath, and tried shoving him off, but Voldemort was too strong.

"-green eyes. She had green eyes too...Harry? Harry is that you?"

The fogginess in his dull eyes was replaced with clarity, as he released his grip, taking a step back.

"I can't-I can't do this anymore Harry. Why does everything hurt?"

X-x-x-x-xxxxxx-x-x-x-X

Harry panted, tangled up in his bedsheets back in his Hufflepuff dorm room. What in the world happened to Voldemort?

X-x-x-x-xxxxxx-x-x-x-X

Today was Harry's most loathed festival. Halloween.

The grandly decorated great hall only made Harry feel sick. This was the day his mom died, the day his father seemed to be at his worst. Needless to say, Harry was not in the best of moods as he listened to Professor binn's boring drone.

A flash of white in front of his eyes jerked him from his musings.

Landed on his desk was a crumpled up piece of paper. Pulling it onto his lap, he gently unfolded it.

"Up for a prank?"

-DM

It read.

Lifting his head, he locked eyes with Draco, who sat in the slytherin side of class between Blaise and Millicent.

Any other day, he would have agreed, but today being today, he just shook his head.

Sorry, he mouthed.

Draco appeared annoyed for a second, before shaking it off with a shrug.

Your loss, he mouthed back.

A moment later, Binns found himself being chased by a life sized floating grim reaper.

"Come back here ghost! I must take you to the underworld," it chanted.

The Hufflepuffs were practically rolling with laughter, and even the Slytherins couldn't control themselves. Nobody but Harry noticed the smug expression that crossed Draco's face.

"I guess that's it for today!" Harry stood up, shoving his parchment into his book bag.

Everyone else took his lead in exiting class, but a certain Hufflepuff girl stopped him.

"This isn't funny, Harry. You shouldn't be disrespecting teachers like that," Scolded Susan Bones.

"I'll do whatever I want, Susan," Harry snapped, "And that wasn't even my doing in the first place,"

"Yeah right, liar," Harry's friends winced. Anyone who knew Harry knew how much he hated being called a liar.

Not noticing Harry's clenched fists and ground teeth, Susan continued, "Not just that, but you're a coward-"

Harry banged his fist down on the table.

Everyone jumped.

"Don't. Call. Me. That," he ground out, blinking his eyes to push back the tears.

But Susan wouldn't back down.

"Yes. You are just a little coward aren't you?"

Harry snapped.

"You call me a coward? Do you know what you are? Mean. A bully. Just because you don't have a life doesn't mean you have to bother mine," Susan flinched at the words. Looks like he struck deep.

"You-" she started, but wetness was already piercing her eyes. She shoved past Harry, out of the door. not wanting anyone to see her tears. Harry didn't have the same reservations. Could this day get any worse?

Yes it could. His day was made even worse when the door to the great hall was slammed open, and a voice yelled out, "Troll in the dungeons!"

The clanging sound of cutlery dropping was heard, as everyone turned to the voice. Standing there pale and winded, was Professor Quirrell. During classes, Harry hadn't noticed him much, but all of a sudden, he was hit with a sense of deja vu.

"Isn't there something familiar about him?" Harry asked his peers, as they errupted into chaos, but he went unheard.

"What about Susan?" Cried a girl Harry remembered as Hannah Abbott, a friend of Susan.

"What about her?" Harry had to shout to be heard over the panic.

"Like you would care! She refused to leave the girls bathroom after you fought with her,"

With a sigh, Harry closed his eyes, "I'm going to have to go find her, haven't I?"

With a wry smile, Hannah said, "She's in the bathroom past the side corridor. Good luck,"

Harry slipped past the prefect, and hurried off past the Gryffindors. Right when he turned the corner, Harry smelt an revolting scent, like rotten eggs and sweaty socks.

He jumped when he heard it, a deep grunting sound, and the heavy footfalls. It was coming from inside the girls bathroom. Taking a deep breath, Harry pulled the door open, and slipped in. He stifled a scream when he saw the hulking beast, swinging the hefty club.

Susan, who was pressed against the wall rapidly moved her wand, trying to create some form of protection against the troll, but it was futile.

"I'll distract it! You run," Harry shouted desperately. Keeping his eyes on the troll, he reached down and pulled out the dagger he keeps hidden in his boot.

Susan's eyes widened when she noticed how easily Harry weld the weapon, but she didn't say anything.

The troll was now facing Harry, who had put on his game face, and started circling the troll. He took slow, graceful steps, keeping their eyes locked. Then he moved, a quick aggressive step, that set the troll on him.

"Run!" He yelled, as he barely dodged the troll's club. Susan followed his advice, and moved out from behind the sinks, and towards the door. The troll noticed, though, and shuffled towards her.

"The chin!" She shouted, as if she'd remembered something, "The troll's weakness is under the chin,"

"If this doesn't work, we're gonna be dead," Harry shouted, but he was already running towards the troll, his dagger held firmly.

"Trust me!"

Harry jumped onto the sink for more height, then launched himself onto the troll. His aim was true, and the dagger was imbedded in it's chin.

The troll let out a shriek as it collapsed. Harry fell with it, landing hard on his knees.

"Umm..." Harry looked away from Susan, realizing how awkward the situation was.

"You were right," Susan said, barely above a whisper, "I am mean. I used to be a bully in elementary,"

"I guess you were right too," I admitted, "About me being a coward. Being called a liar got to me too. You see..." Harry trailed off, unure if he could trust this girl who he had thought as annoying until now.

"I won't tell anyone," If you don't tell anyone about my secret, were the unspoken words.

Harry decided to go for it.

"My father is abusive," Susan sucked in a breath, "Yeah...well...this is my first time telling anyone. I've always thought I was a coward for keeping it to myself. But if I ended up telling someone, and they didn't believe me, I just wouldn't be able to take it, you know. So yeah. I've always been afraid of being called a liar. Even if what I said was true, I'm sorry,"

Susan and Harry locked eyes in silent understanding, "I'm sorry too," she whispered, just as the door slammed open. They hadn't realized how loud they were being, so it came as a surprise when McGonagall, Snape, and Quirrell stepped in.

Harry quickly pulled the knife out of the troll, and stuck it back in his right boot, before any of the teachers could notice.

"What's going on-" McGonagall stopped short when her eyes landed on the troll. Quirrell looked faint, but Harry could tell that it was just as fake as the act they were about to put on.

"Would you care to explain why there's an unconscious troll in here, Potter, Bones?" Snape took control, shaking off his awe.

"It's not Harry's fault Professor," Susan had schooled her expression into a wide eyed, innocent one, "I hadn't attended the feast, because of my cramps," she placed a hand on her lower belly and received a look of empathy from McGonagall, "So I didn't know about the troll. That's when Harry came in, looking for me. If it weren't for me-" she sniffed dramatically. Snape looked away.

"And what do you have to say for yourself, Potter. How exactly did you defeat this troll?"

"Well, it was Susan's idea. She told me that the chin was the troll's weak spot, so I stabbed it under the chin with my wand,"

"And it worked?" asked Quirrell, confused.

"Well, yeah,"

"I can't exactly take points off for cramps. But I do recommend that next time, you go to Madam Pomfrey," McGonagall addressed a relieved Susan.

"Five points off, for not alerting a teacher and coming off here by yourself," said Snape, glaring sternly at the son of his childhood bully.

Harry nodded. He supposed it was a fair punishment.

"But taking down a troll isn't something all first years could do. 10 points each," added Professor McGonagall, eying Snape. Some competition they've got going there. Susan and Harry grinned at each other. They headed back to the common room together, and when their friends raised their eyebrows at how fast they'd made up, but didn't say anything. From that day on, Harry and Susan weren't quite friends, per say. No. Their confrontation had been much too dark and filled with too many secrets for that. But when life became too much, they always found each other in the second floor girls bathroom.


	11. Part three: Chapter 11

Harry didn't go home for Christmas break. Zach and Justin had bade him goodbye, with invitations to their houses. Justin had been very annoyed when Harry declined, but it would be hard to explain to his friend's parents' why he wasn't at his own. Zach merely accepted it, being the more relaxed one of the pair. But what really worried Harry was the way his Slytherin friends+ Pansy had been acting. They hadn't at all questioned his decision to stay at Hogwarts. Were they growing distant after he was sorted into Hufflepuff? They hadn't exactly had much time together.

Shaking those thoughts off, Harry took his seat at the breakfast table with Ron Weasley. The boy had been surprisingly good company after they got over the whole sorting drama.

"Your brother's acting weird," Ron said out of the blue, putting down his fork and gazing down at the lumps of scrambled egg on the silver platter. Harry put down his porridge too.

"You still keep in touch with my brother?" His eyes were skeptical.

Ron just waved it off.

"Yeah, yeah. I know. Slytherin/Gryffindor rivalry. But its kind of different for me 'cause of the wacky sorting, you know. Anyway," Ron glanced away, "Luka's been kind of distant lately. He's constantly sneaking off on his own. And his letters from home were so..."

"What?" Harry prodded, but Ron had changed his mind.

"Nothing."

The next day, Harry snuck into the Slytherin dorimitory by wearing his invisibility cloak and following Ron through the door. He was startled by the bright, homey shades of green and emerald. This was way more comforting than the dreary hufflepuff dorms. Once Ron had seated himself in front of the fire in a plush armchair, Harry snuck into the dorms upstairs. Slytherins had individual rooms, so Harry could easily find the one with the place card, Ronald Billius Weasley. Pushing open the door, Harry carefully maneuvered around the mess of clothes and crumbs that the house elves were yet to clean up. He let his invisibility cloak fall to the floor as he sorted through the mess. When it seemed like it would be impossible to locate the letters, Harry used a spell he'd heard his father use all the time around the house.

"Accio letters from my brother,"

Hastily ripped letters came flying into Harry's fingers.

Pulling out the first one, with Luka's messy scrawl and crumpled parchment, Harry's eyes skimmed through the page, but stopped when he read the familiar words that had haunted his dreams.

" _I can't do this anymore_ -"

The poster covered door swung open, "What are you doing, Harry?"

Ron started towards him in anger, but stopped when he saw the letters Harry was holding.

"How-how much did you read?" Ron asked, shakily. Never be it said that Harry didn't grow up around Slytherins.

"I've read enough," But Ron _had_ been sorted to Slytherin. He could tell when people evaded him. Even if it were skillful evasion.

"Yeah, right," he scoffed snatching the paper from Harry's grip.

Appearing to be at a loss for words, he settled on the cliche, "If you come back here again-"

"I won't," Harry promised, from half way to the door. It was true, after this incident, Ron would probably hide the letters better. Harry didn't hear the muttered words, "I liked the other twin better."

Neither of them knew just how much that was true.

The rest of break passed by quickly, and soon, they were back in the rhythm. Classes sped up, and homework piled on.

Harry had been finishing up his potions essay on the origins and uses of burtlap when Professor Sprout called him to her office.

"Ooh, what did you do this time, Harry?" teased Justin.

"Did you traumatize any more Ravenclaws this week," Zach asked, only half joking. In his pursuit to tear down the point system, Harry had been slightly overzealous in his arguments, and one of the Ravenclaw's who was known for taking all arguments too seriously, had broken down crying when Harry had successfully countered her 'Keep the point system' argument. Harry was getting very good at gaining support for his cause, so it was no surprise that Professor Sprout had changed her mind about the system.

However, when Harry walked into her office, Professor Sprout gave him some sickening news. What was even worse was that a small part of Harry was happy about the news.

But yeah.

James Potter had committed suicide.

 **A/N: Dun Dun Dunnnn... So, just warning you guys, this story is gradually getting darker, which you probably figured out through that last line. Please read and review people! I know this chapter is a bit late, but the more reviews I get, the faster I update. So even if you just review to say 'Toodles' then type 'Toodles' in the review box so I know you care.**

 **War out!**


	12. Part three: Chapter 12

Harry stared at the ceiling of his room, clenching and unclenching his fist. He lay on his back, his pale, unmarked wrists falling off the edge of his red-violet duvet. A teal dresser stood just in an arms reach.

The walls were painted in a bright shade of orange, brightening up the odd looking room. But Harry wouldn't have it any other way. Tilting his head towards the open door (pale pink) he stared at his twin's room, the same size as his. The rooms were in fact identical, except that Luka's had a slightly more monotone color scheme. And the lack of a piano. Harry proudly eyed his grand, black piano that his father had gifted him when he was eight.

His father.

Harry got up, and pulled up the stool in front of the piano. It had been a week since Harry had gotten the news that James had committed suicide. He and his twin had been granted leave from Hogwarts so they could look after family matters. The funeral was to be in a few hours, starting at 8:00 am. Harry had yet to decide if he was going. Remus and Sirius were probably still asleep in the guest room, that they had occupied since the last week, to look after them. Luka was probably awake, gazing blankly at the wall like he'd been doing for the last few days. Luka clearly wasn't dealing with the loss well. Harry however...

He hated his father. He knew that. Yet...he poised his fingers on the familiar keys of the piano, seeing his solemn face reflected in the smooth white surface. He had a feeling that his father didn't feel the same way about him. There was always a fragility surrounding James, an unstableness that had caused him to lash out on Harry. And it didn't help that Harry had murdered his wife. Yet, under all that anger, and abuse, there was love. James loved Harry, and as much as he tried to forget those few warm moments, Harry was pulled into a memory of a similar morning, when he had been sitting by the same piano, fingers hovering over the same keys. He had been significantly younger, but had harbored the same hate for his father. Of course, back then, he didn't refer to his father as "Father" The song so familiar that he had been playing was the piano version of "The Black Parade." Then just as he had played the finishing notes, he turned his gaze to meet James's. He had been waiting by the doorframe for who knows how long. James cleared his throat as if he was going to say something, but then turned away, and instead had headed into Luka's room across the hall.

Blinking back his tears, he realized that he was never going to know what his father had wanted to say. He would always have to bear this tainted memory with him. This monstrous version of his father that only few have seen. He would never stop flinching at a friendly touch. 'Though you're dead and gone believe me, your memory will carry on*,' he thought, laughing hysterically at the irony. His outburst awakened Remus, who luckily didn't question him when he found Harry laughing with his legs kicked up on the piano. Instead, he simply asked him whether or not he was going to attend the funeral.

To his surprise, Harry said yes.

That day, surrounded by coffins, dirt and, dust, Harry mourned not the death of his father, but the man he had never seen. The father he'd never had.

* * *

It was late at night when Harry could finally return to his room. He could barely keep his head up, so he flopped down onto the red-violet duvet, not caring if his handsome grey dress robes got messed up. The image of James's handsome face cold and still, burned into the back of his mind as he fell asleep.

That was probably what influenced his dream that night. Instead of under the hemlock tree, Harry found himself in a boneyard, staring the back of a familiar boy crouched on a tombstone. Hesitating for a moment, Harry headed toward another nameless tombstone facing the boy, and sat down.

"Hey? Voldemort?" Harry asked, his eyes flickering between the tired looking figure and the floor.

"You should probably stay away," replied Voldemort, not even looking up at him.

"This is just a dream. I fail to see what harm you can do to me in here," Harry said stubbornly, kicking away one of the stray skulls.

Voldemort laughed.

"Harm I can do to you? I'm talking about the harm this despicable place could do to someone like you," Voldemort looked up at last, his youthful face faded with something akin sorrow.

"What is this place?" Harry asked, curling in on himself slightly. The moonlight only seemed to emphasize the darkness, and the haunted boy sitting in front of him with those glowing red eyes didn't exactly help.

"The Abyss." Voldemort waved a hand, and the bones dissolved into dust. The pearly white powder then flew into the air, and with a soft whistle, fell like snow.

Snow.

The tombstone was pulled out under his legs, and Harry fell into the cold ground. Voldemort fell as well, but somehow managed to seem graceful doing so. The marble stone of the tombstones chipped into layers, and hovered in the air. Then layer by layer, they wrapped around and around to form a-

"The hemlock tree," Harry whispered, He spun around to face Voldemort who had calmly brushed the snow/bones off his robes.

"Who are you?" Harry asked, not for the first time.

 **Really sorry for the late update guys! Writers block is a (insert choice of swear word here) I'm still not satisfied with this chapter, but I'm gonna have to keep going or I'll never reach the end. I apologize once again.**

 ***this was a reference to the black parade by My Chemical Romance btw.**

 **Please review to help me get back in the groove. (That kind of rhymed, didn't it?)**


	13. Part three: Chapter 13

Voldemort looked at him with the same insane gleam in his ruby red eyes.

"Who are you?" Harry repeated, clenching his fists, "The leader of the Death Eaters? The crazy man that I dream of—the one who's afraid of death?" Harry added in, remembering something from an article he'd read a while back. What was that magazine again? The quibbler. Yeah. That was it Either way, he did not expect Voldemort's echoing laughter, though he probably should have.

"Afraid of death," he chortled, "Pray, are those the lies Dumbledore's been spreading?"

"What does this have to do with Dumbledore?" Harry wondered if this Quibbler magazine might actually have some truth in it. Laughter cowed for now, Voldemort tapped his chin as he stared off into snowy oblivion.

"It would simply be easier to show you, perhaps," He declared out of nowhere, and Harry didn't even have time to object before the ground was pulled out under his feet. The world went tilting, and when he could open his eyes again, he found himself kneeling on solid ground, inside a wacky looking room. Clocks sprang from every corner, and a motley of colorful objects seemed to be shoved under every cranny.

In the center of the room, under a velvet chandelier, stood the small frame of Albus Dumbledore. Facing him was an older version of the Voldemort Harry had become so familiar to. Speaking of which, where was his Voldy? A cold hand was placed on Harry's shoulder making Harry jump. The young Voldemort helped Harry to his feet while the older one was still locked in conflict with Dumbledore.

"-there are worse things than death." Dumbledore's voice was strong and passionate as always.

Older Voldemort's voice, however was unaffected. Maybe slightly amused, even? Harry couldn't tell.

"I highly doubt that," Yep. Definitely amused.

"Alas, you will forever be plagued by this fear-" Voldemort smirked, and Dumbledore stopped, looking quite confused, "Tom? Is something wrong? You have seemed to-" Dumbledore looked for the right word,

"-changed," he settled on.

"Do you know who my Death Eaters really are, Albus? Or what I truly am?" Memory Voldemort taunted. Dumbledore closed his eyes with a sigh.

"I don't know what you want from me Tom. Why are you here?"

"To make you a deal," the shadows seemed to grow as the Memory Voldemort's appearance turned wraith like. His face went nearly transparent as his eyes flared with fire. Dumbledore stumbled back. "What have you done?"

"Made a deal with a man far more powerful than us mortals," Memory Voldemort's ghostly features were serious for once, "I will grant one wish to any soul who I deem worthy. In exchange though, you must join me for eternity."

"The death eaters? They are those who have taken up your offer then?" Dumbledore asked, ever the voice of reason.

"Finally caught up, old man. I personally would rather you not join, but I have orders," Memory Voldemort pulled out a pocket watch with a dark skull on it, and flipped it open,

"Well? I don't have all night. Are you in?"

"I-." Dumbledore hesitated, before his gaze steeled, "No." The pocket watch was snapped close, and the memory Voldemort turned on his heel and left Dumbledore staring after him blankly.

Then the dream Voldemort who had stood quietly next to Harry as they relived the memory, snapped his fingers. The scene froze, freezing Dumbledore's bewildered expression, and leaving the memory Voldemort's leading foot hovering midstep.

"So-" His Voldemort turned to look at him. "Now do you understand?"

Harry shook his head.

"Was I supposed to get something from that? Because I didn't,"

"What you were supposed to get from that is that I am not a power hungry dark lord. Actually, well, I am a dark lord, but I have no interest in destroying all muggles,"

"But that doesn't make sense! What about the war?"

Harry voiced the question that had been pestering him.

He was rewarded yet again with one of those insane laughs.

"Harry, Harry, Harry. Did you ever hear the saying that history books are written by the winners?"

"Yes, but-"

"The purebloods have always been in the minority. The oppressed. I knew if I gave them a bit of power they could do anything they wanted. They would be perfect for my cause." Harry was about to ask what this 'cause' was, but Voldemort raised a finger stopping him."The easiest way would be to pretend I disliked muggles. That way, I would gain their trust-"

"But why do you need their trust?" Harry finally blurted out, feeling lost.

"Because I needed people to go to hell." Voldemort said quietly, the euphoric gone from his eyes.

"What!"

"There's something Dumbledore doesn't know. Something no one really knows," Voldemort spoke in a hushed whisper, "You saw how I changed out there. In the memory. You saw my face. That's because the person I made a deal with is Death himself,"

Harry's knees felt weak, as the world blurred in front of his eyes.

"Harry? Are you alright?" hands grabbed his shoulders keeping him upright, but Harry was barely aware. A memory of a skeletal creature with a obsidian scythe flashed in his mind. It was the dream he'd had when he was young.

"How," Harry gasped, leaning against the wall, Voldemort's fingers still wrapped around his arm. "Tell me, how did you meet death." The words felt different coming out of his mouth. A strange electricity coursed in his tongue and as soon as he spoke the words, Voldemort's eyes glazed over,

"Death only delivers one's deepest desires. Whenever someone is on the verge of death, he can hear their hearts. I met Death when I was six. I had been nearly beaten to death by some bullies. At that moment, all I had wanted was love. I'm normal cases, I would have been taken to heaven where I would receive the love and kindness I wanted. But heaven was getting a little crowded those days, and death needed to bring more souls to hell to balance it out. So he gave me a choice. Take the option of heaven, or become his advocate in the human world and carry on living. I chose the latter, obviously. As an advocate, I need followers to trust me, so I can make deals with them that leads them to hell. Just like the deal you saw me do with Dumbledore. Eventually, I was able to convince the purebloods to take up my offers. I tied them to hell through a tattoo you all know as the dark mark." Voldemort stopped, and blinked the glossiness out of his eyes.

"No. This is impossible,"

I feel the same, Harry thought, "What's impossible?"

"You-you just used compulsion on me?"

"Wicked!" Harry couldn't stop himself from saying, "Wait-why are you looking at me like that. Isn't it just another magical quirk?"

Voldemort slowly shook his head.

"Harry, the only people who have the power of compulsion." Voldemort gulped, "Are descendents of Death himself."

—-xxxx—-xxxxxxxxx—xxxxx

Harry woke up shivering. 'Just a dream,' he reminded himself, 'Just a crazy, insane dream.' But then why did it make so much sense?

It explains why Dumbledore isn't taking any action against the death eaters. Why he isn't doing anything about Voldemort. Though latter was probably because besides the Potter family, no one knew that Voldemort was still alive.

Harry still remembered the time Dumbledore had come to their home and sat down Harry to explain the prophesy to him. It had gone way over his eight year old head, and when he finally grasped it, he hadn't cared.

Well, he cared now.


	14. Part three: Chapter 14

The next day, Harry was back in school. Luckily, because of his reputation as the scary 'Boy-who-died,' he didn't receive nearly as many sympathetic looks as his brother did, and for that, he was definitely glad. He did however, have to bear through the looks of pity Zach and Justin gaze him.

As he walked into the charms classroom they shared with the Slytherins, Harry braced himself to have to pretend to be all torn up over his father's death in front of his friends. However, the moment he sat down next to them, he was in for a surprise.

"Hey Harry," Millicent said casually, "You really spent a whole week celebrating the death of that git you call a father?"

"Yeah," added Draco, a bitter grin on his face, "I know how much you must've hated him, and all that, but a whole week? Really?"

What? Wondered Harry, he'd never mentioned his father in front of them. How did they know that he hated James? Unless...

"So you know." Stated Harry, visibly deflating.

"Yes, Harry, we knew," sighed Blaise, dropping the sarcastic act.

"For how long?"

"Well..." trailed off Draco, exchanging looks with Millicent and Blaise, "I guess we've kind of suspected all along. I didn't know for sure until I asked my father." How Draco managed to sound snobbish even then, Harry didn't know.

"How does your father know?" Harry wondered.

"A lot of people know, Harry. Including your brother."

Harry was reeling. Luka? He knew.

"We asked him ourselves," Blaise said, a slight trace of pride in his voice, "We planned on having polite conversation, but the fact that he knew about the abuse and did nothing ticked us off, and it sort of turned into a fight."

Harry blinked.

"So that's what the fight was about,"

Draco nodded. Harry put a hand to his eyes, "Wow. This is...mind blowing,"

He didn't get to hear their reaction to that, as Flitwick started class.

As he tried to make his frog tap dance down the table, he wondered if just maybe, these many secrets he kept close to his heart were in fact unnecessary. After all. They would all come out some day.

—x—xxxxx-xx-xxxxx—x—

Later, that evening, Harry had settled himself into lounge chair that was a not so morbid shade of yellow. Zach and Justin stuck to nearby chairs, and they all worked through their piles of homework together. The teachers had started increasing their workload to prepare them for the final exams coming up the next month. But when the calm buzz of noise suddenly crescendoed, Harry was forced to look up from his parchment.

"What's going on?" He asked Zach, but he needn't had. The object of attention was walking steadily towards him.

"Come on, Harry," hissed the Slytherin, his elegant shades of green and silver contrasting heavily to the dark tones of the Hufflepuff common room.

"What are you doing here, Draco?" Harry asked with wide eyes.

"I'll tell you later, let's just get out of here first," Draco's face was tinged ever so slightly with pink, and Harry was probably one of the few who could tell that he was embarrassed. He hides it well, Harry thought, impressed.

"You do know that curfew is in little less than an hour, right, mate?" Came Justin's high pitched voice.

Draco sneered, "I have a watch, thank you very much."

Harry bit his lip while trying not to laugh.

"What-I-" before Justin could embarrass himself any more, Zach cut in, "Oh, no, Malfoy. We don't doubt your ability to tell the time. We just thought that maybe your old analog watch is a bit outdated and might not work right."

Oh Merlin. Was that just an veiled insult to the Malfoy's Aristocratic ways? Draco went pale, his eyes narrowed with coldness.

"Ah, well at least my watch will be carry on through thick and thin. Unlike your new 'hi-tech' battery operated digital ones that eventually fizz out."

Yep. Now Draco's insulting the Smith's Meritocracy views.

But Zach wasn't daunted, "I suppose so, yes. The newer ones 'fizz out' but they can be fixed. They can always be fixed. Can't say the same about yours. Broken once, and that's it."

"But-"

"What's going on in here?" The Huffelpuff prefect interrupted, staring down at the first years menacingly.

"Oh, nothing much. Just a heated argument over whether digital or analog clocks are better. What do you think, Sir?" Justin asked, innocently. Harry was surprised by his cunning. He hadn't expected it from Justin.

But as sly as Justin's comment was, the prefect didn't fall for it. "You are much too young get involved in this," he said, successfully evading the question with a tight lipped smile.

"What about you, Harry?" Zach asked, with raised eyebrows. Harry met his gaze head on.

"I find a certain beauty in those gothically steampunk analog clocks, don't you?" He said, voicing his alliance though he knew he would regret it later.

There were gasps hear from those whom were listening to the conversation, and understood the meaning behind the metaphors. Even Zach looked shaken. He clearly expected him to side with the meritocrats. Justin was louder about his outrage.

"What? You can't possibly mean-" Luckily, Zach interrupted him again, "I, Zacharias Damien Smith challenge you Draco Lucien Malfoy to a modified duel-"

"I'm his second." Stated Justin. Ignoring Justin, Zach continued

"-the modification will be that, it ends at injury only, not death. That is when the second takes over. Do you accept?"

"I accept." Draco seemed to glow. Harry knew how Draco had always dreamed of having a duel. That was what pushed Harry to say,

"And I'll be his second."

Draco gave him a thankful nod, while Justin seemed betrayed.

"You may state the time," Zach said, breaking the tension.

"Midnight." Said Draco. And Zach

Harry rolled his eyes, "So melodramatic!"

"Now that we've got that taken care of, can we go now!" Draco said impatiently.

"Okay, Okay, I'm coming,"

They left the common room, grinning at each other. As they passed the door, Harry was struck with a question, "How did you get inside in the first place, Draco? I never told you the password,"

Draco put his hands in his pockets in a typically unmalfoyish way, "I have my ways," he said, mysteriously. Then he looked at said old fashioned watch, and cursed.

"We're going to be late." He said, walking faster. Harry tried to catch up.

"Where are we going?"

"I don't know. Snape told me to go fetch you and come to him in less than 30 minutes-"

"-that was not what I said, Draco, you fool!" A silky voice said from behind.

They spun around to come face to face with their favorite potions Professor.

"That's not what you said sir?" Draco frowned.

"I said to stay there for at least 30 minutes!"

"But why sir?" I said, voicing the question the both of us were wondering.

"Why! Because there's a death eater recruitment going on in the Slytherin Common room, and I didn't want you to be there. But you two idiots went around voicing your political views and one of the death eaters had happened to overhear. Now they want to recruit you,"

"Wait-you're a death eater," Harry glanced at draco who was obviously not surprised. He knew.

"Yes, and by the end of the day you will be too,"

"We can't. We're eleven for Merlin's sake!"Harry said, indignantly. Whether what happened in his dream was true or not, he could tell that both versions of death eaters were not people he wanted to become.

"Well maybe you should have thought about that before you went around being so loud. Damn It Potter, this is why we told you to keep your head down!"

Then what Harry figured was the door to Slytherin Common room swung open, and a masked, hooded woman appeared. Snape transformed from the panicked teacher to emotionless death eater in less than a second.

"Lestrange," he greeted.

"Send them in, Severus," her airy voice said, "We'll be starting shortly."

Harry and Draco had no choice, but to step into their doom. Or did they?

 **A/N: Sorry to end this on a cliff hanger, but I have more action planned the next chapter, and wanted to give you time to wrap this around your heads. Read and review please.**


	15. Part three: Chapter 15

As they approached the door of the Slytherin common room, Snape looked at Harry with a challenging expression that clearly said, "What are you gonna do now, huh?"

One thing Harry had learned from living in Darkness academy was how to run. This was probably the only reason Harry managed to get away with this.

"Hey, Bellatrix," he asked with a blasé tone that belied how terrified he was, "Do you know what fear stands for?"

"No. What-"

Harry interrupted her. He was probably the first one ever to do so, by the expression on her face, "Yes. I see. You wouldn't know what fear stood for since you've never felt it. But for the rest of us, it stands for Frick Everything And Run."

Harry took advantage of Bellatrix's moment of shock and grabbed Draco's wrist. But before he could do exactly that (FEAR), Bellatrix snapped out of it and pulled out her wand.

"Cru-"

Draco kicked Snape weakly on the side of his knee, and for a moment, Harry was confused as to why Draco was kicking Snape of all people. But then Snape toppled onto Bellatrix, disrupting her spell and sending it zipping towards the dungeon walls.

"Oops," Snape said with a bored expression. Harry had a fleeting thought that Snape had toppled on Bellatrix on purpose, and that Draco's kick was only an act. But that thought vanished as soon as it came when he and Draco turned on their heels and ran as fast as they possibly could, tearing down hallways, they felt as if Hogwarts was on their side, for once, as the castle twisted and morphed into halls most familiar to them.

"Where do we go?" Draco said, between pants.

"I don't know-Wait. How about the Hufflepuff common room. It's the closest."

"Good idea."

They turned past the kitchen, to the grand wooden doors of the Hufflepuff common room.

Draco looked at Harry expectantly, but Harry just crossed his arms, leaning against the door.

"I forgot the password," he stated, his face blank, "Looks like you're going to have to remind me. After all, you just got in a while ago."

Draco flushed, "We don't have time for this, Harry-"

"Well, you better start telling me how you got in, or else we're going to be in trouble." Harry smiled stubbornly.

"Fine! I'll show you!" Draco threw his hands up. Then he reached towards the ground where the black and yellow mat they stood under was. He flipped it over, revealing a carving of a badger.

"I am loyal to Harry." He said firmly, and the door slammed open.

"What-"

"Every house common room has a quirk. There is the usual password, but there's a system designed for emergencies. The Ravenclaws are the only ones who've figured theirs out. Answering riddles. As you saw, the Hufflepuff quirk is declaring who you're loyal to. The Slytherin Common room opens by speaking Parseltongue, so no one can enter. The Gryffindors are the ones no one figured out yet. I'm guessing they have no secret method. They're too straightforward for that."

Draco raised his eyebrows at Harry's surprised look.

"What? We're Slytherins. Obviously, we know everyone else's secrets,"

Of course, you do..." Harry's mind was racing to think of all the ways he could take advantage of it, but he put the thought aside. After all, he had a duel to prepare for. And he had no intention of losing.

By twelve, no one came to look for them, so Harry and Draco were relieved. But they knew they would one day face the consequences of turning against Bellatrix, but today was not the day.

So, when the clock struck 12, the three Hufflepuffs and a Slytherin stumbled into the secluded Hufflepuff common room. The tension in the air was almost tangible, yet beyond that, lay nervous excitement.

"Our side is ready. Are you?"

"We're ready," Draco replied, biting down a snarky retort.

Zacharias and Draco turned to face each other as Harry and Justin stayed back. They stood, circling each other carefully, avoiding the many chairs and desks that filled the common room.

Just as they both raised their wands, a sharp voice pierced the air.

"STOP. Hold on,"

Harry knew the strong voice before he saw her. It was Susan.

"I'm not letting the four of you duel in the middle of the common room alone. You need an impartial judge,"

She sat down on one of the tables, with her arms folded.

"But it's supposed to-"

"Do you have any objections, Justin?" Susan raised her voice in warning.

"Okay! Fine, you can stay Susan," Zach said hastily when he realized they couldn't convince her otherwise without waking half the school. Susan instantly lowered her voice.

"Provetium circulem," she flicked her wand, and a gold-tinted ring formed around Draco and Zach.

"This is your ring. You may not leave it, but can use anything that's inside it." At their blank expressions, she sighed, "You know, the furniture? To shield you?"

"Ohh. That's smart," commented Justin. Susan turned slightly pink at that.

"Never mind, shake hands," she dictated, and the two in the ring did so albeit hesitantly with a good dose of sneering at each other,

"On your mark. Get set. Go!"

"Stupefy!" shouted Draco, immediately getting into a side stance.

"Protego," Draco's stupefy bounced off Zach's shield harmlessly.

"Incendio," Draco put up a shield, but Zach's incendio had been aimed somewhere else- the legs of the chair to Draco's right. One leg burned up, the now unbalanced weight forcing the chair tumbling into Draco.

"Incendio," Zach said again, at the perfect moment when the chair met Draco. The chair caught on fire an instant before it hit Draco's skin.

"Stop," Susan said. And all magic inside the ring froze, leaving Draco unharmed. In bright gold lettering, the words "Draco Lucien Malfoy loses, Zacharias Damien Smith wins," were spells into the air.

"Merlin, what was in the spell you used for the ring?" Harry asked, in awe. Susan shrugged.

"Just an ancient spell used for modified duels. Keeps people from getting injured," once again, they stared at her in disbelief, "Come on guys. No need to be that surprised. I may not be book smart like Hermione, but I'm good with law and order. I've been reading about duels since I was five-anyway, we got off topic. Harry, you need to take Draco's place, since you're his second."

"Wow," commented Justin, as Harry approached the ring, and Draco exited, "Zach, you beat him in less than a minute,"

Draco flushed, and Harry gave him an intense stare as he passed him, "Draco, we'll win this. Just you watch. 'Tonight we are victorious'" Draco couldn't help but smile at the P!ATD reference.

"Good luck," Now Harry just had to win it. This duel could change things. It wasn't merely a childish duel. It was a battle for the sake of political views. Treading carefully was key.

Stepping into the ring, Harry faced Zach. Gazing carefully at his friend, he wondered how to take him down. If even Draco, who grew up dueling, couldn't win against Zach, then how could Harry?

An idea struck Harry, a crazy one, for sure, but a legal one. The main rule in duels was that only wands may be used. And the ring Susan cast ended the duel when one's life is in danger. Harry could use that loophole to his advantage. He could use it in the way only he could. The way only one from Darkness academy could.

"Ready?" asked Susan.

Harry raised his wand. "Ready,"

"Begin!"

Zach, who had seen the determined look on Harry's face, started off with the stunning spell.

"Stupefy," Harry dodged the spell narrowly, and responded with one of his own, "Lumos," he said, putting all his power into it.

The overpowered Lumos caught Zach off guard. Actually, it's sheer brightness caught all of them off guard. They couldn't see.

By the time Zach casted a Nox to cancel out the spell, Harry was in front of him. Right in front of him. Harry shoved his wand into the base of Zach's neck. The pressure point that could drop even a grown man. Before his wand could meet Zach's skin, however, the ring's magic kicked in and threw the two apart.

"Harry James Potter wins, Zacharias Smith loses," showed up in the same glowing letters.

"What in the world was that?" Draco said, but he couldn't hide his glee at winning.

"I just exploited a loophole," Harry grinned.

"Hey! That's not fair!" cried Justin.

"No, he stuck to the rules. Though I have to say, Harry, that was rather Slytherin of you. Nothing like the noble, chivalrous Hufflepuff everyone thinks you are," Zach said, before he stepped out of the ring. Harry just smirked. Some days were more Slytherin than others.

"Well, then Justin. Your turn," Susan says, at last.

Justin steps into the ring, and Harry gazes at him warily. Justin was the one who had been most affected by Harry's declaration. Even though Justin was the weakest and least smart of the bunch, he was a true Hufflepuff. He could work through all the odds and WIN.

They both raised their wands.

"BEGIN!"

 **A/N: *Cackles evilly* how'd you like the cliffhanger? Who do you think is going to win? AND I HAVE FINALLY MET MY GOAL OF 10000 VIEWS. Review to congratulate me, maybe? 😊 War out!**


	16. AN

This story will be taken down to be rewritten big time. I am very sorry to those of you who have truly enjoyed this story to its fullest but I want a chance to improve my plotting, writing and pacing skills. So this is a promise to you guys.

I will write every single day.

No excuses.

This story will end up being longer than 60 chapters and over 300,000 words.

I promise it will be bigger, better and clearer than any of my stories I've ever written.

Yes, this is going to be hard. But it will be worth it in the end.

Thank you, and sorry.

-War out!


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